


Something Tangible

by breathtaken



Series: The New Normal [4]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Genderfluid Character, Other, Trans!Musketeer(s), Trans!d'Artagnan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:58:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2032764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathtaken/pseuds/breathtaken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Here’s to d’Artagnan!” Aramis announces, raising his glass of bubbly with a flourish. “Welcome to the heady world of data analysis, darling.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Tangible

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CPFics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CPFics/gifts).



> This was supposed to be a Tumblr short, but it got away from me a little.
> 
> A note on pronouns: d'Artagnan's default pronouns are 'he/him', and he's trialling use of 'she/her' on girl days.

“Here’s to d’Artagnan!” Aramis announces, raising his glass of bubbly with a flourish. “Welcome to the heady world of data analysis, darling.”

“ _Aramis_ ,” Athos warns immediately, always ready to jump in where he feels Aramis is taking liberties – but d’Artagnan puts a restraining hand on his arm.

“It’s alright, Athos,” she replies, raising her own glass; gaze caught for just a moment by the glassy shine of the manicure Constance gave her last night. It looks good on her fingers. _Right_.

“Here’s to me!” she echoes.

“To d’Artagnan!”

“To be fair, though, Aramis,” d’Artagnan points out, setting her glass down and deliberately taking Athos’ hand to stop herself fiddling with her necklace, “I’ve been doing data analysis for almost a year already.”

“That you have,” Aramis replies solemnly, “but now you’re a permanent employee, I’m afraid there’s no getting away from it.”

“What Aramis is _trying_ to say,” Porthos picks up, “is that he’s very glad to have you around for all those times he has to actually explain to a potential client _why_ they might want to use us, and needs some numbers to back it up. As are we all, of course. And to show our appreciation” – he reaches for a small bag – “we got you a little something.”

“It’s not a real gift, I’m afraid,” Constance says, briefly squeezing d’Artagnan’s free hand before she reaches out for the bag, “just a little something from the catalogue. But we wanted you to have something tangible to hang onto.”

“Is this from corporate stationery? What have I told you all about using my budget code?” Athos grumbles, though d’Artagnan can tell his heart’s not really in it; and when she flashes a smile at him, she sees an answering one twitching at the corner of his mouth.

He secretly approves, then, and he doesn’t really mind any of them knowing that.

“Team morale is priceless, Athos,” Aramis replies, completely unmoved. “And we thought she’d prefer this to the golf umbrella.”

Inside the bag is a long, thin blue box with the company fleur-de-lis inlaid in silver leaf, which opens with a satisfying click, to reveal a delicate silver pen with the same fleur-de-lis image engraved along the side.

“Thank you so much, guys,” d’Artagnan says, just a little overwhelmed; sliding it carefully out of the foam backing and turning it in her hands, feeling the weight of it, before looking around at them all in turn – surely the best team she could ask for – letting them see the shine in her eyes. “It’s beautiful.”

Unexpectedly, Athos clears his throat. “I was told I had to make a speech,” he begins, only implying the words _and they wouldn’t let me back out of it_. “So, d’Artagnan, speaking as your colleague – I can say with all sincerity that you have proved yourself more than capable over the past nine months. Your value to this team is clear, and I was happy to recommend you for a permanent contract.”

D’Artagnan smiles, trying not to duck her head too obviously – but any sort of praise from Athos never fails to make her beam, even when it’s on a strictly professional level.

She misses the arch of Aramis’ eyebrow, but she doesn’t miss the amusement in his voice when he asks: “And speaking _not just_ as a colleague?”

She doesn’t expect Athos to answer at all, but when she looks up at him he’s more than half-smiling, his eyes crinkling as he meets hers. “Then I’d have to say I’m very glad indeed that we got to know one another.”

Athos is a private man, and d’Artagnan knows already that the words _I love you_ from him are for her ears alone: as they tumble into bed together at night and lie together in the mornings, kissing sleepy smiles onto each other’s faces; when they’re happy and in the moment together, when someone’s hurting, when they’re tired and grumpy; on boy days and girl days and the days that d’Artagnan wishes would end almost as soon as they’ve begun.

When so much is changeable, and often uncertain, d’Artagnan finds himself, or herself, marking the things he knows to be constant, cataloguing them, storing them up in his heart for the days when it seems like nothing makes sense. His ability to do his job, and his determination to do it well; the fact that however he feels inside, he always hates tuna, and his hair never fails to get in his eyes. Aramis, Porthos and Constance, who always treat him the same, whatever his pronouns.

And Athos, who takes everything in his stride, and never falters; and though d’Artagnan does want to learn himself for his own sake, there are days when it helps to think _Athos loves me as much right now as he does when I’m a boy,_ or _when I’m a girl,_ or _when I look in the mirror and wish I could leave all this behind and just be someone I understand_.

D’Artagnan’s normal may be a little more complicated than a lot of people’s, but it’s his; and he has faith that he’ll get there, in time.


End file.
